Rowan Nightshade's Short Stories

The 51st State

In 2045, an underwater volcano erupted off the coast of The American/Canadian border. It spewed for 11 days without stopping. The result was a huge, rocky landmass in the middle of the Pacific. US soldiers got there before anyone else, and it become the 51st state, named Haven. I was five years old at the time. My family moved to the black island, because my father was tired of the Democratic/Republican hostilities. I barely remember the main land.

We were there for two years before a rabies epidemic broke out on the mainland. Only a few scientists actually know what happened, and they wouldn't say. We were safe because we lived out in the ocean. The virus couldn't reach its malignant tendrils as far as we were. Even so, a lot of people died. The virus killed hundreds in those eight chaotic months. I was seven.

The government cracked down on the epidemic. It was controlled.

Until now.

Its been seven years since the last virus outbreak. Seven long, peaceful years. But the peace is over. The virus has made a comeback. It crawled into the body of its first victim three months ago. Now its perforated the minds of America, and less than 4% of the US population is virus-free.

Haven is 2% of that four.